


Legacy

by kashillua (laneelsin)



Series: The Cat and the Hound [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, Sakumo as the Hound, Sakumo loves his son, Suicidal Thoughts, Young Kakashi, it's Sakumo post-incident so it's kinda a given, not really tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-15 03:54:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13604988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laneelsin/pseuds/kashillua
Summary: The Hound is a mask passed down from father to son, from one generation to the next. Picking up the mantle is not always easy, and the burdens of the job are more than most can take.Snapshots of interactions between different generations of Konoha's very own ANBU Boogeyman.





	Legacy

The Hound was never one known to be gentle. Ruthless, uncaring, unfeeling; a destructive force that took everything in his path down. Flee on sight orders for enemies and allies alike, untrusted by any and all for fear of being caught up in the carnage. A lightning quick blade, white-hot chakra that burns to the touch, lean muscle and cool, clean tactics born from a life on the field, learning how best to instill fear in the enemy and making good on the threats he makes. Hound’s life is the mission. Hound’s purpose is the mission. Hound lives, breathes, and will eventually die for the mission. What else could he do?

The Hound returns from his mission, battered, bruised, bloodied. Not his blood, never his blood. But nonetheless is he tired of it all. Hound cleans himself, changes into his civs, and heads home. Blessed home. He’s ordered to take the day off to recover by the Hokage, and it’s all Hound can do not to collapse in relief and exhaustion. He drags himself out of the office and wearily makes his way home.

The Hound has lost himself; Hound barely remembers who he was before he took the mask. It’s not often he gets an off day, that he gets to go home. What time he does spend at home he treasures, holds near and dear and refuses to let go because sometimes it’s the only motivation he has to keep defending a village that cast him aside years ago to die.

It’s late, Hound realizes as he walks home. Few people litter the streets, and those that are out avoid him like the plague. A man he does not recognize spits on the ground at his feet. Hound does not take the bait—he pauses, smiles at the man cooly, and wishes him well before continuing home. He is in civs, after all; Hound is not him when he is in the public eye, and he must maintain the image of docility, fragility, placidity that he is known for when in civilian clothing. He is used to being treated like trash. Today is no different than any other. He continues on, unshaken, unbending, unyielding, and broken.

A deep silence sets in as he leaves the center of town and enters the outskirts, surrounding him and filling in new cracks in his soul that he had yet to fully investigate. As expected from the late hour, there were none around to see the way his body slumps, limbs tired, eyes weary, soul worn down. Seeing home come into view gives him the push he needs to continue on, passing through the gate at long last. The first thing to catch his eye as he hangs up his vest is that the screen to their courtyard is open, letting the warm night air of the summer infiltrate their main living space. following flickering lights that dance behind a rice paper screen. Hound silently approaches like a predator in the night, stalking forward to investigate.

The panel slides open; a small boy is curled up on the floor, fast asleep and surrounded by no less than four dogs. A candle burns brightly on the low table next to him, an incomplete seal matrix spread out, ink bottle open and brush laying forgotten atop the ink block. Soft snuffles arise from the young pack on the ground as Hound slips inside, blowing out the candle and carefully packing away the supplies. Hound scoops up the little boy in his arms, truly small and fragile but so _beloved_ , his perfect, beautiful son, his only heir and the reason he comes home every night. This boy is his world. His everything. All he does is for this sweet, small child resting in his arms.

The boy mumbles sleepily, head nuzzling into his neck as his little hands cling to his shirt. “Tou-san…”

Hound takes a moment to collect himself—it’s been months since he’s heard his son speak directly to him, his boy so caught up in anger and rage and hatred for being ostracized from the rest of the village for his actions. When they do speak, he’s called ‘chichiue,’ never tou-san, never anything that could sound too loving, too familiar, too comfortable.

Hound misses his son more than words could ever attempt to express.

Clearly the boy is too sleepy to care much, and the instinctive way pack calls to pack makes it clear that much of his son’s bluster is manufactured, a desperate defense mechanism to protect himself from further alienation. His son loves him, he’s sure, though not as much as Hound loves his son.

It’s easy, tucking him into his futon like he once did when his son was very, very small. Before he was absorbed into the village, before his son was forced to grow up far, far too soon.

His little boy looks so peaceful, warm and pliant with sleep. Hound cannot help himself from planting a soft kiss on the boy’s forehead. An impulsive decision has him laying beside him, curling his arms around his little body and tucking him safe against his chest. He has the entire next day to spend with his son, a luxury he hasn’t had in nearly a year. For now, he feels the Hound slipping away, ebbing away from his being and suddenly he feels like he’s _himself_ again.

“I’m home, Kakashi.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a multichap!  
> Mostly about Sakumo and Kakashi, and all of the shit that comes with being a servant to the village. I always figured that the Hound has been an ANBU that's been around for a while, and that typically masks are passed down, with each one having their own set of skills and personalities that people adopt to keep anonymity. I thought it'd be an interesting look in on their characters.  
> Will update as I feel like lol per usual


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